H. R. F. Keating

H. R. F. Keating was born at St Leonards-on-Sea, Sussex, in 1926. He went to Merchant Taylors, leaving early to work in the engineering department of the BBC. After a period of service in the army, which he describes as ‘totally undistinguished’, he went to Trinity College, Dublin, where he became a scholar in modern languages. He was also the crime books reviewer for The Times for fifteen years. His first novel about Inspector Ghote, The Perfect Murder, won the Gold Dagger of the Crime Writers Association and an Edgar Allen Poe Special Award. He lived in London with his wife, the actress Sheila Mitchell, until his death in 2011, aged 84.

Other novelsDeath and the Visiting Firemen (1959)
Zen There Was Murder (1960)
A Rush On the Ultimate (1961)
The Dog It Was That Died (1962)
Death of a Fat God (1963)
Is Skin-Deep, Is Fatal (1965)
The Strong Man (1971)
The Underside (1974)
Murder Must Appetize (1975)
A Remarkable Case of Burglary (1975)
Murder by Death (1976) (screenplay by Neil Simon)
A Long Walk to Wimbledon (1978)
The Governess (1983)
Mrs. Craggs: Crimes Cleaned Up (1985)
The Man of Gold (1985) (writing as Evelyn Hervey)
Into the Valley of Death (1986)
The Rich Detective (1993)
The Good Detective (1995)
The Soft Detective (1997)
The Bad Detective (1999)
Jack the Lady Killer (1999)

CollectionsIn Kensington Gardens Once… (1997)

Non-fictionSherlock Holmes, the Man and His World (1979)
Great Crimes (1982)
Writing Crime Fiction (1986)
Crime and Mystery: the 100 Best Books (1987)
The Bedside Companion to Crime (1989)

In a small, provincial town in the heart of India, a politician’s wife has done her husband’s career a great service, by dying under suspicious circumstances. That the corpse and the trail have been cold for fifteen years hasn’t saved Inspector Ghote of the Bombay CID from being sent to investigate. But what chance does he have when his chief suspect is so powerful, when the whole district is against him, and when a holy man is fasting to the death to protest his prying?

But still the good inspector dutifully goes, carrying just the honour of his police force and a box of double-sized eggs . . .

Detective Superintendent Harriet Martens took great pride in her twin sons deciding to follow her into the police by moving to London and joining the Met. Imagine her horror when, as she sits with her husband over evening drinks, the phone rings and she learns that Graham has been killed by a terrorist bomb and Malcolm is in hospital, gravely injured. Her world falls apart around her. In the wake of a major bomb outrage in a European city every available Greater Birchester Police officer is occupied with anti-terror precautions, she finds herself investigating the theft from a Birchester research station of a herbicide specimen capable in the wrong hands of causing more destruction than any single bomb. To avoid the panic which news of the theft will set off, she has to work in secrecy, all the while fighting off the overwhelming grief of her loss of Graham and her unceasing fears for Malcolm. All but alone in a deceptive world where no one is quite what they seem, she has to earn again the title once given her of the Hard Detective.

Detective Superintendent Harriet Martens has resolved to resign after the new Assistant Chief Constable at the head of the CID has made her feel somewhat inferior in her job. However, her thoughts of resignation are abruptly interrupted when the pro-hunting politician Robert Roughouse suspiciously collapses during one of his vehement speeches at an anti-hunting demonstration. Sensing that someone has deliberately attempted to murder Roughouse, and seeing an opportunity to prove her worth to the ACC, Detective Martens determinately takes charge of the investigation. Immersed in thoughts about what could possibly lie behind the attempt at assassination, Detective Martens decides to interview Roughouse in hospital. However, rather than aiding in her enquiry, her visit serves only to confuse things further: Roughouse is not there, he has been peculiarly moved in the night by a group of men to the privately owned Masterton Clinic. Detective Martens’s effort to see Roughouse at Masterton is similarly in vain, as she is denied entry. What could lie behind the strange series of events surrounding the Roughouse case? Detective Martens investigates…

In the house of Lala Varde, a vast man of even greater influence, an attack has taken place. Varde’s secretary, Mr Perfect, has been struck on his invaluable business head. And try as Inspector Ghote might to remain conscientious and methodical, his investigation is beset on all sides by cunning, disdain and corruption. And then there’s the impossible theft of a single rupee to be dealt with…

What had until recently been a police sergeant is now lying at Ghote’s feet bleeding its last. An accident it may have been, but Ghote saw exactly what happened, and it’s his duty to arrest the killer. Isn’t it? Or can the inspector better serve his beloved police force by disposing of the body, by concealing a crime? And if he does, will he manage to keep his terrible secret?

As an Inquiry begins beneath the first torrents of monsoon rain – will he even want to?

Some crooks have tried to snatch the plump son of a business tycoon, and have accidentally made off with his playmate instead. But they’re not changing their plan: a payment is to be delivered to them or a small corpse is to be delivered to Inspector Ghote.

But what kind of ransom can a mere tailor’s boy demand? And, as something more unpleasant than just a ransom note arrives from the kidnappers, are the police helping keep the boy in one piece?

Newly-promoted Inspector Ghote is thrilled to be granted casual leave until he takes up his post, as it allows him to spend time with his heavily pregnant wife, who is desperate to watch a showing of Hamlet at the cinema. Their plans are ruined, however, since Sir Rustom Engineer requires Ghote to investigate the suicide of his friend’s wife.Worried about his wife’s imminent delivery, Ghote nevertheless travels to the home of Mr. Dawkins, where he is unconvinced by the story of Iris Dawkins’ death. Especially when he recognises the officer in charge, Darrani, well-known for his close-mindedness. Ghote is determined to investigate further, with a Hamlet-esque awareness of how deceiving appearances can really be.

It’s not often a Nobel Prize winner gets murdered… on your patch… very likely by a member of your own family. DCI Phil Benholme has the reputation for being a little soft because he tries to see both sides of every story. And if he hadn’t on this occasion, the murder of Professor Unwala – Nobel Prize winner of 1945 – would have been recorded as a tragic accident. Was the elderly man a victim of a violent burglary? Or of a racist assault by Britforce troopers? Or did he know something about the collection of Celtic coins thought to be buried nearby? Clearly Inspector Benholme has a number of leads to follow up. Unfortunately they all point to one person – Conor Benholme. What doesa ‘soft cop’ do when his teenage son is also his prime suspect?

With this dazzling off-beat thriller, his fourth, which appeared in 1962, Mr. Keating had achieved his very top form. Who wanted him? What for? Why was Roger Farrar (if that was his name) on the run in Dublin? Was he a traitor and deserted? The innocent target of a kidnap plot? Or a lonely persecuted paranoiac? A thriller edged with doubt and menace.